Author: Mosh Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
Jyuushirou was sorting through his study notes when the door to his room slid open. He looked up and frowned. “You’re the only person I know who just barges into people’s rooms without knocking, Kyouraku-kun.” Shunsui’s face lit up with a grin and he shrugged. “Worried I’ll catch you in a sensitive moment, friend?” His broad shoulders shook as he laughed lightly. “Maybe that’s what I’m hoping for, eh?” At Shunsui’s wink, Jyuushirou’s frown deepened. “Don’t worry,” said Shunsui. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before in the baths after training.” “You’ve looked?” “You mean you haven’t looked?” Shunsui countered, wandering in to sit on Jyuushirou’s bed. He perched his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on the heels of his hands, staring at him with those heavy-lidded eyes that always made it look like he had just woken up (which was often the case). “There’s nothing wrong with assessing your rivals, you know. In all things.” That impish smile was back again. Jyuushirou was usually quick on the uptake with other people, but not always with Shunsui. The other man had a habit of making him uncomfortable with his tendency to speak his mind, and Jyuushirou couldn’t always tell when he was teasing or being serious. They had been good friends since starting at the Academy, but since his illness had been diagnosed Jyuushirou often felt too weak to read what was behind his friend’s words. He was sure Shunsui used that fact to his advantage. “What brings you here this late?” Shunsui let out a long-suffering sigh. “I’ve been studying all evening. Thought it was time for a break.” “Really? Studying, hm?” Jyuushirou wondered if that was indeed the case. Irritatingly, Shunsui was the type of student who seemed to breeze through his work without lifting a finger, whereas Jyuushirou found if he didn’t revise solidly a few days before a test he struggled to concentrate. It was particularly difficult if his affliction was acting up. “By ‘studying’ do you really mean ‘napping’, I wonder?” Shunsui held up his hands and smirked. “Ah, you’ve found me out.” He leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner and stage whispered, “Don’t tell Yama-ji.” “I’m afraid I don’t have time for a break. Big test tomorrow.” Shunsui tutted. “Surely you can spare a couple of hours for your best friend, Jyuushi-kun. You need to loosen up a little… get out more.” Jyuushirou raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Out…” “Precisely. Come join me for a drink in town. A new tavern has opened up in Third District and I hear their sake’s excellent.” “We’re not allowed out in town at night without permission,” Jyuushirou pointed out. He was sure Shunsui knew this. “Permission which is highly unlikely to be granted even if we asked. And we’re not supposed to drink sake. Especially right before a test-” “Oh, come on! You’ve been holed up here for days. I hardly see you any more, except at training and then we’re always kept too busy to talk. It makes me sad.” Shunsui pulled on a thick lock of curly brown hair, letting it spring back around his cheekbone. Jyuushirou supposed this was meant to be endearing. He rolled his eyes and shuffled his papers, setting them into a neat square on the table. “I can’t.” “Fine, you won’t come out. But will you at least let me fetch some tea - we can have it right here.” Whether he was sincere or just trying to push his luck - and the sparkle in his eyes suggested the latter - Shunsui’s persistence was difficult to resist. Jyuushirou had to admit, tea sounded nice. He hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since lunch that afternoon. He had been working so hard to revise he had forgotten all about food. “All right. We can have tea.” “I’ll be back in a moment,” Shunsui called, already up and heading out the door again. Jyuushirou cleared his revision notes away, making space on the table. He lit one or two more lamps as the early evening twilight fading fast through the windows, and waited for Shunsui to return.
* * *
“Ta-da!” Shunsui announced, looking extremely pleased with himself. On a small round tray he carried a teapot, two cups and a bowl. He strode in, slid the door shut, and joined Jyuushirou on the floor. Setting the tray down on the table, Shunsui offered the bowl to Jyuushirou. “What’s this?” Jyuushirou peered in, and after a moment his stomach audibly rumbled. The bowl was full of succulent rosy umeboshi. He smiled to himself, and then at Shunsui. “Thank you.” “You don’t eat enough, and not at the right times, either.” Shunsui began to pour the tea, ignoring Jyuushirou’s thanks. As a matter of course, Jyuushirou’s illness was rarely brought up. But there were moments when Shunsui would do something like this - almost touching on the subject, but not quite. It was one of the few topics Shunsui treated with actions rather than words, and Jyuushirou was grateful for that. As they settled, the night grew steadily darker around them. The beeswax candles flickered behind their shades, casting dancing shadows over the walls and ceiling. The tea was very good, with a bittersweet tang that lingered long in the throat and warmed the gullet. Jyuushirou soon found himself loosening up, just like Shunsui had advised. He popped another umeboshi into his mouth and chewed delicately, enjoying the sour salty flavour that burst across his tongue. He became sure, as time rolled on and as Shunsui’s banter grew more risqué, that something wasn’t quite right with the tea. At first he’d thought it was just a different brand than the one he was used to - possibly something Shunsui had picked up during one of his raids in town. But on taking another sip, Jyuushirou started to wonder if that was it. He narrowed his eyes at his friend. “You rogue,” he said, his words not coming out as steadily as he’d intended. Shunsui stared at him, a distinct tint to his cheeks. “You’ve spiked it, haven’t you?” Shunsui’s innocent expression lasted all of ten seconds before his mouth spread into a wide smile and he started to laugh. “I can’t believe you,” Jyuushirou said, grinning as well. Face flushed, Shunsui leaned forward. “Better to be spiked by my sake than by a zanpakuto, eh?” “Despicable,” said Jyuushirou. “It’s quite possible that by tomorrow morning I’ll have wished for the zanpakuto, if the strength of this tea is anything to go by.” “Bah, if you can handle this you can handle just about anything.” They both smirked. Jyuushirou heard footsteps on the veranda outside, moving closer and at a fast pace. A moment later there was an urgent knock on the door. Unsteadily - no thanks to Shunsui’s special tea - Jyuushirou rose and opened it. “Ukitake-san,” said the visitor, a boy a couple of years below them at the Academy. “Is Kyouraku-san here?” “Yes,” said Jyuushirou. “What’s wrong?” “Ah, Kazuma-san!” called Shunsui, waving lazily from where he was reclined on the floor. “Come join us. I have special tea - you’ll want to try it. At least once.” “Forgive me for intruding…” Kazuma ignored the invitation. “I have a message from Yamamoto-sotaicho.” He brought a folded piece of parchment out of his pocket. “For you.” “Bah, can’t it wait?” “No, I’m afraid it can’t.” There was an edge to Kazuma’s tone that Jyuushirou didn’t like. His formal manner and the way he glanced nervously from the letter to Shunsui prompted Jyuushirou to say, “Shunsui.” Shunsui grumbled as he got up and came to the door. “All right, all right.” He took the letter and unfolded it. Jyuushirou moved to stand behind his friend, but respectfully he didn’t read what was on the parchment. Shunsui was still and silent for a long time, reading. Probably re-reading. Jyuushirou put a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?” “I-” It was rare for Shunsui to be lost for words. Jyuushirou saw him swallow thickly, his Adam’s apple rising and falling, rising and falling. “Friend?” Jyuushirou squeezed Shunsui’s shoulder lightly. “I have to go,” Shunsui said. “It’s my mother. She’s been taken ill… Yama-ji has excused me from classes and training so I can go home.” He scrunched the letter in his fist and slid it into his pocket. Turning to Jyuushirou, Shunsui opened his mouth to say something, closed it again. “Go. You need to be there,” said Jyuushirou. “I’ll take notes for you.” Shunsui stared at him, looking uncharacteristically lost. He nodded. “Thanks.” He followed Kazuma out into the night. Jyuushirou watched until he couldn’t make out his friend’s silhouette in the darkness. Sobered, he pulled the door shut and started to clear up the table.
* * *
Three days passed, with no word from Shunsui. Jyuushirou had done as he had said: he had been taking extra notes during classes for Shunsui to catch up when he returned. However, he himself had been finding it hard to concentrate. He had been invited to join some classmates on a trip to Rukongai during exeat weekend. Although he’d had fun wandering the streets of Junrinan as an official Shinigami Academy student, he hadn’t been able to fully enjoy the awed gaze of those he met. In the tavern they found, his friends’ chatter fell idly around him as bottles of sake were passed to and fro. Jyuushirou hadn’t been able to stomach it. He had been feeling a little ill ever since the night his best friend left and often wondered how things were going at the Kyouraku household - whether Shunsui was holding up all right and how his mother was doing. He would not impose, but he inwardly sent good wishes to Shunsui and his family. He knew the situation was serious, judging by the way Shunsui had reacted to the summons home and the official manner in which it had been conducted - a letter directly from Yamamoto-sotaicho, no less. Jyuushirou himself had a large family and knew all too well what it was like when one of them was sick or injured. Luckily for him, however, nothing too dire had happened as yet. He sincerely hoped Shunsui’s mother would pull through her illness. The morning of the fourth day since Shunsui’s departure, Jyuushirou was paired up with Namabuke Takahisa for sparring in the courtyard. They had duelled before on occasion, whenever Yamamoto-sotaicho felt compelled to pair them. Jyuushirou had always prided himself on the fact that he hadn’t lost yet, even though Namabuke was an exceptionally strong opponent. Regardless of the fact that he’d had a bad couple of days health-wise, once his zanpakuto was in his hand his concentration became honed, his perception crystalline sharp, movements swift and sure. When he fought - for short periods of time at least - his body felt as it did before he’d contracted his disease: strong and ready to take on anything. He got in the first hit, sparks rising from the body armour his opponent was wearing as his sword connected with the surface. He heard Yamamoto-sotaicho praise him from the sidelines, quietly so as not to distract, but loud enough to encourage. There was the odd ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ from the other students surrounding them as they ducked and dived, swords clashing. Namabuke managed to dodge Jyuushirous’s second lunge, and also got in a hit. Disappointed with himself, Jyuushirou began to find it increasingly difficult to thwart the other man’s attacks, until he found the sparks flying around them were from his own body armour more than the other’s. As the fight went on, Jyuushirou’s breathing became increasingly laboured, his movements not so fluid. He didn’t usually tired out this quickly. He pressed on, using most of his energy to defend himself rather than attack. He found it was all he could do. With a firm clap of his hands, Yamamoto-sotaicho ended the duel. By this time, Jyuushirou was worn out and feeling irritated with himself. He hadn’t been up to his usual standard, he knew that much. Although he couldn’t thrive on long, drawn-out fights very well like Shunsui could what with his stamina, he was one of the sharpest and fastest in his class for shorter duels, and could usually floor an opponent before his strength started to wilt. That hadn’t been the case today. The disappointment and concern on Yamamoto-sotaicho’s face was not lost on Jyuushirou as he made his way out of the courtyard. And yet, thinking of Shunsui and his family and all they were going through at that moment, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to care.
* * *
As he approached his room he caught sense of a familiar spirit energy. Sliding the door open, Jyuushirou was not surprised to find Shunsui sitting on his bed, head lowered. “You lost to that Namabuke idiot,” Shunsui muttered. “I won’t forgive you for that unless you beat him next time.” “Shunsui.” Jyuushirou walked to his desk and pulled the chair out, turning it around to face his friend. Shunsui looked up, no characteristic curl to his mouth to be seen. Jyuushirou didn’t need to hear it, and wouldn’t make Shunsui say it. “I’m very sorry for your loss.” “It can’t be helped,” said Shunsui. “Her family were all there, just as she wanted.” He rubbed the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders as if trying to dispel knots of tension. “Would you like a drink?” Jyuushirou offered. “Do you have any sake?” Jyuushirou shook his head slowly. “Sorry.” “Never mind.” Shunsui rose from the bed, sliding his hands into the pockets of his robes. With a heavy heart Jyuushirou watched his friend wander restlessly around the room, staring at the few paintings Jyuushirou had made, the family crest hung on the wall, the trinkets he had bought from vacations of the past. Shunsui huffed and pointed up at a pale straw hat hung between two portraits of Jyuushirou’s siblings. “Where did you get this?” “Oh that… My youngest sister Keiko bought me that as a joke while on holiday a couple of years ago. I’ve never worn it,” said Jyuushirou. He could remember Keiko presenting the hat to him, giggling. Jyuushirou had leaned down so Keiko could put it on his head, and had then acted out a little mime for her, much to the confusion of everyone around them. It was a good memory: Keiko in peals of laughter, Jyuushirou young and carefree. “Mind if I…?” Shunsui said, one hand poised next to the hat. Jyuushirou bid him to take it down. He couldn’t understand why Shunsui had interest in such a tacky accessory, but then, Shunsui’s tastes were vast and varied. The other boy turned the hat around in his hands a couple of times in a considering manner, then flicked it up into the air and ducked his head to catch it on the return. It was almost annoying how Shunsui could take such a gaudy piece of dress and make it look good, like it was made just for him. The brim of the hat shaded his eyes when he lowered his head slightly, giving him an air of mystery. When he tilted it to the side, he looked almost comical. With his head raised, it framed his large, sharp features like a crown. “Now this is the perfect cover for napping in class. Allow me to demonstrate.” Shunsui looked down, pretending to write on invisible parchment, and let out a loud, dramatic snore. Jyuushirou shook his head. “I have to hand it to you, it’s not a bad fit.” “I thought so.” As much as their banter came easily, there was a heavy atmosphere. Things left unsaid were ripe in the air. Things that couldn’t be said, not right then. Shunsui didn’t wish to further talk about his mother, which was fine. Jyuushirou wouldn’t push, but at the same time he wanted to console his friend. Jyuushirou rose and joined Shunsui. “It looks better on you than it does on my wall.” He patted the straw hat atop Shunsui’s head. “Would you accept it as a gift?” Shunsui cocked his head to the side. “A gift, hm? People might start to talk if you go around giving me gifts.” “Oh, shush. If you don’t want it-” “I’ll take it.” For a moment, the smile on Shunsui’s mouth was genuine. It was enough for Jyuushirou; he couldn’t help but smile back. The texture of Shunsui’s hands was surprising. Jyuushirou had never felt them before - he had always imagined them to be smooth, fit for a man who didn’t like to involve himself in kerfuffles unless absolutely necessary. But they weren’t. Shunsui’s palms were rough and dry at either side of Jyuushirou’s face: steady, gentle, like the brush of old, familiar parchment. Jyuushirou blinked, drew in a silent, wondering breath. He hadn’t anticipated Shunsui holding him like this - he hadn’t even seen it coming. Ever the impulsive one, Shunsui. “Friend…” he whispered. Shunsui’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips and Jyuushirou heard him inhale deeply. “Jyuushi-kun,” was all Shunsui said in a soft rumble, his thumb tracing over Jyuushirou’s cheekbone, down the side of his face, over the ridge of his jaw, around the back of his neck. His mouth was set low at the sides, more serious than Jyuushirou could recall ever seeing it. Shunsui closed his eyes. “I made a promise to my mother, that I would succeed.” His words played cool against Jyuushirou’s face. “No matter what it takes.” “Aa,” Jyuushirou said. “You will.” “If I have to fight, I’ll do it.” “Aa,” Jyuushirou said, staring hard at his friend. It was stupid that at a time like this he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He went to reach for Shunsui, but stopped, unsure. “Will you come with me, Jyuushi-kun? Right to the top?” “Of course,” Jyuushirou said, without hesitation. Shunsui pulled him closer still and opened his eyes. “You’ll be there when I need you. And likewise, I’ll be there when you need me.” “What else are friends for?” Shunsui rested his forehead against Jyuushirou’s. “It’s a promise.” Jyuushirou now reached for the front of Shunsui’s hakama and held on firmly. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that - still and steady and close to each other, a silent support. Shunsui’s hand lay on the back of his neck, and the warm beat of his breath against Jyuushirou’s cheek was comfortable. He wanted to give that same strength back in return. He just didn’t know how. “You’re fretting,” Shunsui said quietly. “I am not fretting,” said Jyuushirou. “I know you are. You can train your body, but not your reiatsu. At least, not at this close range.” “Stop your teasing.” Jyuushirou released Shunsui and stepped back. The warm hand slipped from his neck, fell to Shunsui’s side. Shunsui didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Hm… well, Jyuushi-kun…” He raised his chin, stretched his arms and rolled his head. “I’m all worn out. I think it’s time to turn in.” Although he was reluctant to let the moment shift, Jyuushirou nodded. He wasn’t thinking straight as it was, after everything that had happened in the past few days. As much as he wanted to ask Shunsui to stay, he wasn’t entirely sure if the motivations behind it were appropriate, especially in wake of Shunsui’s loss. He would ignore the feelings churning inside him for now, put aside the compulsion he’d felt to lean in closer and kiss his friend. Now was not the time. He walked Shunsui to the door, both of them quiet and pondering. Shunsui pulled the door open, then turned. “Who knows, perhaps one day we’ll fight Yama-ji himself, eh?” “Perhaps,” Jyuushirou said, cocking an eyebrow. Shunsui winked at him and adjusted the straw hat.. “See you in the courtyard tomorrow.” Then, tilting it down to shade his eyes, he drew the door shut, and was gone. ~fin~ |
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